Taken aback by his admission, I pull the knife out of his flesh and cock my head backward to glare up at him.

“You were using me as bait?” I don’t know if that pain I suddenly feel is because he risked my life to catch Javier, or if it’s because he doesn’t care about my well-being as much as I had started to believe he might.

Victor sighs faintly, though still irritably, but it seems more-so because of what I said than me taking my time about pulling the damn Band-Aid off.

“No,” he says. “Shortly after I pulled onto the main road, I saw another car drive past. A brand new Cadillac. Black with a nice price tag. I thought it didn’t quite fit with the neighborhood.”

I feel foolish before he even finishes explaining.

“So I turned around and parked on the road and watched it to make sure.”

I remember that car now, the only one that drove past me and made me immensely nervous.

I get back to work on finding the bullet, trying to be extra careful.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what?”

Finally, I see the bullet amid the blood and work it out with the end of the blade.

“For accusing you.”

The bullet drops on the floor and a gush of blood pours from the wound.

“Get the gauze,” he says casually, pointing at it on the table.

I do as he says while he pours more alcohol on the bloody wound, gritting his teeth even more than before.

I grab the gauze from the table and break it apart from the wrapping, unrolling it all the way, which isn’t nearly enough to wrap around his waist twice much less as many times as it will take to help keep the blood from draining.

“Don’t I have to sew it up or something?” I ask.

“Not right now,” he says. “I don’t have anything to sew it up with. You’ll have to pack it with the gauze.”

“But won’t that—”

“It’ll be fine,” he assures me, nodding toward the gauze dangling from my hand.

“I guess Izel got you back for those flesh wounds you gave her,” I say as I kneel back down level with the wound.

“I suppose she did,” he says. “Just use your finger to pack it inside. Put a lot of pressure on it.”

Not even thinking about my hands getting bloody, I start to pack the hole with the gauze until I can’t fit anymore. But I see now that it really isn’t that deep, maybe an inch at most, and it really does look worse than it is.

After cutting the excess gauze away, he pulls his underwear back up where it rests just below his hip. “I’m going to shower,” he says walking to the bathroom. “Don’t open the door for anyone. And stay away from the window. Thank you for your help.”

“Sure. Anytime,” I say flatly.

I wish he was a little more conversational. I’m going to have to remedy that.

He slips inside the bathroom and seconds later I hear the water running.

I plop down on the end of my bed and turn the television on, searching for the local news. When I find it, I can’t do anything but stare at the black-haired woman as she stands outside the area where ‘ten bodies were found shot to death earlier this morning’, and the rest of what she says fades into the back of my mind. It hurts to think about Lydia, the horrible way that she died. It hurts knowing that I couldn’t help her like I promised and that her grandparents will soon know about her death and that they will be heartbroken.

The only good that I get out of this newscast is knowing that Lydia’s body was found, that it wasn’t left out there to decay and turn to dust never to be identified.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Victor

The girl is asleep when I get out of the shower. I turn off the lights in the room and double-check the door before stopping at the side of her bed. She’s curled in the fetal position with one pillow crushed against her chest. She’s filthy and could’ve used a shower herself, but was exhausted by all that has happened.

I study the way her long, auburn hair, although disheveled, outlines the contours of her face. She appears peaceful lying there, innocent. Despite exhaustion, after all that she has been through I find it interesting that she can sleep at all.

I’m going to need to get her some new clothes and shoes soon.

Carefully, I pull the bedspread over her body and leave her to her deep sleep, sitting down at the table on the other side of the room.

I’m breaking my own rules keeping her around like this. I know that I should have left her at the trailer park and waited for Javier to come for her—because surely that is one of the first places he’ll look—make it easier on myself to eliminate him. But I feel like I owe it to her to keep her alive. At least for now. At least until Javier Ruiz is dead. She has seen too much, experienced too much. She shows all the signs of having lost the ability to react to fear and danger appropriately. She is numb to danger and that in itself is a death sentence.

Once this is over with, I will set her out on her own again. Perhaps she will find her way, though her chances are slim. But it is a risk that I must take. She cannot be with me for much longer; the life I lead will only get her killed.

I make contact with Niklas through a live video feed on my iPad, putting only one ear bud in my ear so that I can control the volume of my voice while speaking with him.

“She is still with you?” Niklas asks, incredulous.

I did not expect anything less of him.

“I will get rid of her once I eliminate Javier Ruiz,” I say. “For now, I need her close-by. I cannot chase Javier if he’s moving from place to place chasing her.”

“So you’re using her as bait?” He appears more accepting of the prospect.

I glance over at Sarai to make sure she isn’t awake.

“Yes,” I answer looking back, but instantly feel as though I am deceiving my brother and in-turn, our employer.

Taking matters into my own hands and breaking protocol for the sake of a successful mission, I am known for. Over time my decisions based purely on instinct have been accepted and respected by Vonnegut. Because I have never been wrong. But breaking protocol by outright deceiving the Order is new territory for me.

And I don’t yet fully understand why I’m doing it.

“Good,” Niklas says. “Onto matters. Last known whereabouts of Ruiz was just outside of Nogales. He had trouble crossing the border into Arizona, but was finally granted permission once his insiders planted in border patrol arrived to see him through. We believe he is on his way to Tucson, if he isn’t there already.”

Niklas adds, “What is your next move? Vonnegut has all but passed off the reins of this mission completely onto you. All that he asks for are updates. And as you can understand I’m sure, he believes it is taking far too long to conclude. Javier should have been eliminated yesterday and you should be on a plane to your next mission by now.”

“I am aware,” I point out. “Forty-eight more hours at the most is all that I need.”

Niklas accepts, nodding in answer.

“I will take the girl with me to Houston in the morning,” I go on. “Inform Safe House Twelve of my arrival.”

“Why Twelve?” Niklas looks at me warily. “You always choose Safe House Nine. Twelve is not your…shall I say type?”

“I am not going there for that,” I tell him.

He believes that, but I can sense that he doesn’t particularly agree with it.

Something is different about my brother as my liaison and my brother and I intend to find out what.

“Why go to Houston at all?” he asks, seemingly irritated with my decisions entirely. “You could wait for him to come to you and be done with this. Why, Victor, are you dragging this out?” Anger and frustration rises up in his voice.

“I’m taking the girl there to keep her safe,” I say and there’s more than enough question in his face to show that he is beside himself over my reasoning. So, for the sake of my relationship with my brother, I add, “Niklas, it is only temporary, I assure you. You must trust me.”